


Last Night On The Plain

by angryschnauzer



Series: Dr Henry Cavill - Paleontologist [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: 18+, Blow Job, F/M, Fingering, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Oral Sex, Professor/Student Relationship, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryschnauzer/pseuds/angryschnauzer
Summary: Summary; As an archeology student at the end of your first year of University, you spend the summer on a dig in the South of England. Throughout the whole dig you’ve lusted after the site-lead; a fresh out of his doctorate Dr Cavill, assigned to the dig to get some leadership experience.Will the last night you spend on Salisbury Plain be one to remember?(This fic is a prequel to my multichapter story Superior Specimen it can be read alone but contains spoilers for that story)
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Series: Dr Henry Cavill - Paleontologist [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912414
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	Last Night On The Plain

Last Night on the Plain

Sitting on the kerb outside Iceland, the little town of Warminster was quiet on a Saturday afternoon. The Land Rover would soon be coming through to pick you and your friends up, the dig site lead having driven a few of you into town to collect supplies for the last night of the six week long dig. 

Six weeks of living in tents, running to the nearby stream to dive into the Watercress filled waters and wash, rinsing your underwear in a bucket and hanging over guy ropes of the tents and hoping the cows in the next field over don’t lean over the fence and eat them, six weeks of celebrating the end of your first year of University. 

You loved Archaeology, having studied hard for your A-Levels at college, you got the grades to go to Southampton University to study it. The dig would contribute towards your yearly grade, teaming up with other uni’s from around England, the excavations on the far west of Salisbury Plain in the south of England, and the project was to uncover settlements from when the giant pillars of Stonehenge were moved from their starting point in Wales and anything from the trade routes over the following millennia. 

Your friend nudged you in the ribs, nodding to the vehicle heading towards the three of you;

“Hey hey, here comes Cav”

“Dibs on shotgun” you blurted out, your friends groaning at your speed at calling the front seat.

Standing, the three of you watched as the site lead pulled up to the kerb, his big smile at seeing you misfits waiting for him made your stomach do a little flip. He brought the Land Rover to a bumpy halt at the kerb, leaving the engine running as he got out and helped load the supplies into the back, reaching the front passenger door just in time to hold it open for you. You missed the way he looked at your ass as you climbed in, shutting the door after you.

The ride back to the dig site was bumpy; 30-year-old Land Rovers weren’t known for their comfort, the lack of seatbelts in the vintage vehicle not helping as the country roads and tracks were littered with potholes. You were painfully aware of the way your breasts were bouncing around, having foregone bras within the first week of the dig. They pinched and prodded you as you bent over excavating for hours on end and became an unnecessary addition to have to bother keep washing by hand. 

On one particularly vicious bump you were bounced across the narrow bench seat, grabbing at Cav’s leg before you ended up headbutting the steering wheel. He apologetically smiled at you;

“Sorry…”

“S’ok”

You rode in silence for a while, the pair in the back deep in discussion about the merits of getting an upgrade from their Sony Ericsson’s to Blackberries. Finally your seatmate spoke;

“So, pink, huh Punk?”

You pulled at a strand of hair, holding it out from your head and grinned;

“The Sun-In turned it orange. Orange isn’t my colour”

“I left you in town for forty five minutes… how did you have time to dye your hair?” he said with a grin.

“It’s Cherry flavour Panda Pop. We stood in the alley behind Ladbrokes and poured a bottle over my hair”

He laughed, his toothy grin wide and genuine;

“That explains the smell”

“Hope you’re referring to the cherry and not the alley”

His face paled and he stuttered, before you grinned and gave his thigh a squeeze;

“I’m teasing”

He smiled and turned his attention back to the road, concentrating on the journey now that the paved roads had finished and it was now dusty tracks across the farmland. You watched as he steered the vehicle, and you knew he was going to be your only regret of the summer. Dr Cavill, or Cav as everyone called him on site, fresh having finished his doctorate in Palaeontology, but desperately in need of some leadership skills and experience on how to run a site dig. He was cute. Tall and fit, gorgeous blue eyes and high cheekbones, both of which were regularly hidden by his mop of soft chestnut brown hair. When he was deep in concentration he would nibble at his lip and it only made them plumper. 

You were so in your little dream world that when he made the sharp right hand turn into the field the dig was in you lost your grip, your hand sliding from its spot on his thigh to in between his legs, your head low on his stomach;

“Oh!”

He slowed the Land Rover as you scrambled back to your seat, his cheeks flushed and pink.

“Sorry…”

-

The campfire was down to its last embers, the sun almost fully set. It was the last night of the dig and you were all celebrating. The finds had been fantastic, everything catalogued and recorded, friendships hatched and grown, sunburn peeling away to reveal soft skin, leave-in bleach hair sprays and nights of passing around a three litre bottle of White Lightning - the cheapest by volume cider you could find. Cav had excused himself to his tent, not often joining the students for the latter parts of drinking, and the nights argument was whether or not it was too late to walk the three miles to the Red Lion pub in Heytesbury.

“You guys go. I’m gonna take one last look at the north end trench, see if i can find my amethyst necklace I lost last week”

“Punk, you’re drunk, it’s getting dark too!”

“I’m not drunk, I’ve had a few sips of Cider, and I’ve got a head torch”

“Fine, suit yourself”

-

Brushing through the sandy soil you were yet to find your necklace, but as the friction under the brush suddenly changed you looked closer, smiling when you saw what was revealed. 

Minutes later you stood at his tent, calling out;

“Cav? I’ve found something…”

He appeared in the doorway, the camping lantern illuminating his tent as it sat on the table where he would write his notes and inspect finds;

“Hey! What have you…” he saw the shards of pottery you were holding in your hands, his eyes going wide; “You found the last parts?”

Nodding you smiled. Throughout the dig the team had discovered finds from multiple era’s, and one he’d found was the majority of shards from a Roman Pot, an urn that would have been used to carry Olive Oil all the way from the southernmost parts of the Roman Empire. You knew that it had been frustrating him that all his attempts to reassemble the urn had failed, the missing pieces seemingly integral to the structure.

He pulled the tent flap to the side for you to enter, setting the pieces down onto the table before straddling the bench that sat beside it. Cav came over and grabbed the tray that held the other parts, a ball of blu-tack nestled in the corner;

“This is amazing! It looks like all the missing pieces are here!” he turned to you, his eyes shining bright in the glow of the lamp; “I thought you all were going to the pub?”

“I stayed… I wanted to have one last search for my necklace I lost last week”

“Oh… did you find it?”

“No. But this is so much better! C’mon, I wanna see if we can get this to fit together now!”

His long legs meant he could step over the bench with ease, sitting down next to you and you watched as he started to push the pieces together, cradling them in his large handspan. Softening the blu-tack he pulled a little off and applied it to the edge of a piece, angling his arm at an awkward angle, cursing under his breath;

“Could you…”

“Sure” taking the piece from him he held the fragile urn in both hands as you bent over his arms and stuck it into place, moving onto the next piece, this time near his hand furthest from you. 

Due to the angles you were struggling to see, before you spoke quietly;

“Lean back a little”

He did as you asked, extending his arms to full stretch as he held the artefact, letting out a squeak of surprise as you tucked yourself under one arm, shuffling to straddling his lap and sit;

“Okay, now I can see what I’m doing…” you muttered as you pushed your ass back against him, the whole thing completely innocent, but you were unaware of the look of panic on his face, how he was afraid he was going to crack a tooth from gritting his jaw, willing his dick not to get hard.

He was now rendered to simply holding the urn in place, he was unable to concentrate, however you had taken over the placement of the new pieces, slotting them into their gaps, the blu-tack holding them secure. As you slid the final piece in you sat back, resting your back against his chest, smoothing your hands over his as you both took in the piece of pottery that dated back two millennia;

“It's stunning…” you muttered.

He softly brushed his thumbs over the sides of your hands, and you felt the warm puff of breath on your neck as he spoke;

“So are you…”

You let out a breathy sigh, your back arching and you could feel he was hard, the bulge against your ass pressing incessantly against you. Resting your head against his shoulder you turned your head and his lips caught your own. The world stopped and you saw stars as those soft pink pillows caressed your lips, moaning into his mouth and he took the chance to slip his tongue against yours.

Somehow the two of you managed to gently rest the delicate artefact back onto the tray in the midst of your fledgling passion, his hands intertwining with yours, fingers laced together as his tongue worked magic with your own.

When you broke the kiss you were gasping for air, his mouth finding your neck as he kissed along your exposed shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth dragging against your skin and making you moan;

“Oh… oh fuck… yes…”

He stopped for a moment, his hands still entwined with yours but he wrapped his arms around your body;

“Tell me to stop… tell me this is wrong, I’m your supervisor…”

“It’s the last night… let’s give ourselves this night… Just promise not to fall in love with me…”

“It may be too late for that already” he murmured against your skin, but you were lost in the haze of lust to comprehend his words.

Your hands finally parted, his slipping beneath your strappy t-shirt, yours reaching back to curl into his hair as his tongue danced patterns over your neck again. You were writhing on his lap, lost in the moment when suddenly the bench tipped, the two of you falling back and landing on the ground. 

You moved first, rolling off before turning and straddling him, leaning over to catch his lips with your own as you ground your clothed core against the bulge in his tented shorts;

“I’ve wanted to feel you between my thighs for the last six weeks” you muttered against his earlobe, pressing kisses to his jawline as his hands found your ass and pulled you firmly down onto his body; “The amount of times I’ve gotten myself off in silence as I thought about sneaking into your tent…”

He could only let out a guttural moan, and as your hands found the edge of his t-shirt you parted so you could strip him of it. 

You sat back, pressing yourself down harder against his growing erection as you admired his smooth and pale chest, the tiniest crop of hairs right in the centre, delicate muscle definition but still slim and athletic. You watched his face as you trailed your fingers down the length of his long body, finally brushing against the thin trail of hairs that led from his navel into his shorts. You shifted back a little, unfastening the button on his Khaki shorts and unzipping him, reaching into his underwear and grasping his hot length before pulling him free of the cotton confinements. 

Bending you took him into your mouth, sliding your tongue over his hot flesh as you swallowed around him, bobbing your head up and down. His hands found your head, pressing gently to tell you the speed he liked, a string of curses falling from his lips as you rapidly drove him to the brink of pleasure. It didn’t take long until he let out an ‘uh-oh’ and you slid a hand up his stomach, his own grasping at it as he started to cum in your mouth. You swallowed all that he gave you, his back arching as he thrust up into the warm comfort between your lips, before his body went limp. 

Pulling off him his hands gripped at your arms, pulling you up his chest until you were laying on top of him;

“You’ll need to give me a moment… then I’ll be right with you…”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his bite swollen lips before standing, and he pushing himself up to rest on his elbows, a look of panic on his face before you grinned at him;

“Chill… just getting more comfy…”

You pulled your top off and dropped it to the ground, unfastening your combat shorts and let them fall too, kicking off your flipflops before you were standing there in just your knickers, your thumbs hooked over the sides before he finally spoke;

“I want to be the one to take those off…”

He quickly stood and pulled you over to the double air mattress he had in his tent, watching you lay back against his sleeping bag as he stripped himself of the rest of this clothing. As he climbed on he crawled up your body, and it was then that you saw the tiniest patch of brown in the sea of his blue eyes. You were mesmerized by it as he lay over you, your legs parting as he rutted against you, already growing hard again. He moved to your side and slid a hand down the length of your sternum, over your soft stomach and into your underwear, feeling how the thin cotton was soaked through with your arousal. Sitting up he pulled the ruined scrap of fabric down your legs, looking at your soaked petals as he parted them with his long fingers, finding your sensitive nub and rubbing delicate circles against it, before sliding his hand down and pushing two fingers into your soaked hole;

“Fuck… you feel so tight…”

“I need you… I need you inside me…”

“I don’t… I don’t have any protection…” he looked pained to admit what could be the stopping point of the night.

“I’m on the pill… been taking it continually so I didn’t get a period whilst on the dig…you can go bare…”  
  
  


His eyes went wide, he’d had a number of lovers over his years at University, and he was well into his mid 20’s, but he had always used condoms, never wanting the girl to have to take the responsibility for their tryst… he had never gone bare but just at the mere thought of sliding into your heat, to feel your hot wetness against his skin, it made him as hard as a rock.

He scissored his fingers inside you before shifting, pulling them from you as he positioned himself between your thighs, the light from the lantern casting long shadows over your bodies. He rested his tip against your folds, taking a moment to lick your juices from his fingers, then with a smirk he started to press into you.

With each passing inch your eyes fluttered shut, not realising you were missing the look on his face as he found heaven between your legs. The feel of your pussy around him was almost suffocating, hugging him so tight as he slid in with ease from your arousal;

“Oh my god… you feel so fucking good… you’re gonna have to tell me how you like it, cos’ I don’t think I’m going to last long…” he muttered.

Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongues whilst your body grew accustomed to his impressive length inside you, the biggest you had ever taken;

“Hard and fast, I was made to be broken… break me…”  
  
  


At your words something changed in him, pushing his body onto his arms as he started to rut into you, watching your juices shine on his dick as he pulled out, only to slam back in as your body took every inch of him, your silken channel hugging him tight. The tent was filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, and knowing you were the only ones on site your voices rose, your moans filling the night sky. 

Your body was bucking beneath him, shaking from pleasure and he could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer. He desperately wanted to feel you come around him, pushing a hand between your bodies he rubbed furiously at your clit, feeling your body tighten and your back arch, and as you came your body trembled around him. 

The feeling was indescribable, he was so deep in pleasure that when his back arched and he came deep inside you he let out a roar, his eyes screwed shut as he filled you with his come, finally going limp, his arms shaking from the exertion of holding himself above you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of you, burying your face in his neck as you breathed in his scent.

Finally finding his voice he whispered quietly;

“Stay with me tonight”

Wrapped in the sleeping bag and blankets you did just that, curled up in his arms and the warmth of his embrace.

-

Henry was woken by the sounds of the camp being broken down, the crews from the various universities packing up their things as the minibuses arrived to take them back to the halls of residences or shared houses. He was alone in his bed, and as he sat up he could hear your voice yelling out to your tent-mates to ‘pick up your fucking stuff’. 

In the hours that followed various vehicles turned up on site, his own supervisors, benefactors and sponsors of the dig, all very excited by the finds and reports, and especially of the assembled Roman Urn. At every moment he tried to get away, tried to find a moment to talk to you, but as the minutes and hours ticked by the window was closing. 

You were all packed up, everything in the old minibus. Every time you had looked across the site he was talking to someone important looking, never getting a moment where he was alone. The driver of your minibus honked the horn and you panicked;

“Hang on, I’ve just got one more thing to do…”

You ran across the site and he saw you, excusing himself from the people he was talking to and managed to intercept you behind the old Ford Transit van that was taking the equipment away. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your lips;

“I didn’t want you to leave before I got to say goodbye”

Your bottom lip trembled, your voice shaking;

“I’ve left my number on a piece of paper on your table, its tucked under the tray with the urn on”

He let out a sigh of relief, nodding before kissing you again, the sound of your minibus driver honking the horn impatiently.

You reluctantly pulled out of his arms, giving him a final wave before running to the bus, and he watched from the side of the van as you climbed in, the vehicle driving off into the distance as a cloud of dust trailed behind it.

“Henry!” an older male voice called out cheerfully. 

Rubbing his palms over his face he took a deep breath, before turning and smiling at his supervising professor;

“Hey, good to see you Sir”

The older man clapped a hand over Henry’s shoulder;

“You’ve done an amazing job on this dig… the reports that came in have been exemplary. You had all the same students at the end of the dig as at the start which I’ll have you know is a particular skill… some site leads drive students away in droves!”

Leading Henry back towards the dig site he waxed lyrical about Henry’s skill and how he showed true leadership skills, turning to another gentleman that was leaning against Henry’s Land Rover;

“Have you met Piers?”

Henry shook his head, he knew who he was being introduced to, the CEO of the most prestigious museum in the UK and some would say the world with regards to Archaeology and Palaeontology. Shaking the man’s hand he was speechless;

“We’ve been following the dig reports, your talent is something I haven’t seen for many years… we’d like to discuss a position on our expedition board with you…”

“Y-yes… that would be fantastic! Thank you”

“Now, let’s see that Roman urn I’ve been hearing all about…”

Leading the men to his tent he lifted the tray, pulling it out into the sunshine as they took in the beauty of it, no-one noticing the small scrap of paper catch on the wind and slipping out of the tent, Henry too distracted by the reality of being hired for his dream job.

-

Many Years Later.

Henry grinned as his team crowed around him, the heat of the Siberian Summer seeping into their pores. In broken Russian the students were laughing and shouting, before three of them carried the massive femur bone they’d excavated a few days previously over to Henry, heaving it into his massive arms.

“Smile!” someone shouted out and he heard the clicks of phone camera shutters, before he gently rested it onto the soft ground, chatting to the team as he did so.

That night they hit the bars of the nearest town, Henry smiling when he saw one had wifi, connecting his phone and uploading a few updates to the dig account and also his own. An hour later he checked his phone and saw his Instagram notifications, one account name in particular catching his attention; @thepunkwiththepinkhair

It couldn't be, could it?

It was. It was you. The pink may be gone, but he had finally found you again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Some explanations of British shops/brands;
> 
> Iceland = a budget supermarket chain
> 
> White Lightning = cheap, harsh apple cider, sold in bottles that are 3000ml/a gallon for around £5.00 (USD7/EURO6)
> 
> Panda Pop = very cheap fizzy drink, full of additives, artificial colours, sugar.
> 
> Ladbrokes - a chain of gambling shops.
> 
> Sun-in - spray in hair bleach that you would spritz on your hair and go out in the sunshine, and it would bleach your hair. Apparently it was meant to give you ‘sun kissed highlights’, but when i was 18 i turned my hair bright orange with it.
> 
> In the UK University starts when you are 18, and a degree lasts 3 or 4 years. You can then do a ‘post graduate course’ which is another year of studying, and if you want to work towards your doctorate, it can be another 4-7 years on top of that, which is why Henry in this story is literally fresh out of studying even though he is approximately 25 years old.


End file.
